


can’t start a fire (without a spark)

by RiotFalling



Series: Tumblr prompts [8]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Denial, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-23 12:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23777992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiotFalling/pseuds/RiotFalling
Summary: Tony is forced to stay home while the rest of team is away on a mission, and finds out that being left out isn’t actually the part he hates the most.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark
Series: Tumblr prompts [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538830
Comments: 32
Kudos: 294





	can’t start a fire (without a spark)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from seijishun on Tumblr!
> 
> _  
> **I hate trying to put my desire into words when my body knows exactly what to say. Come home. (You can’t start a fire without a spark.)**  
> _

“Okay, now reattach the first two wires, and you should be good,” Tony says, relaxing back into the couch and adjusting his blankets. “Emphasis on _‘should be’,_ because I can’t actually see what you’re doing at all, so I have to just assume you’ve followed my instructions perfectly.”

“Eh, close enough,” Bucky says, and then laughs when Tony makes a concerned squawking noise. The connection is grainy, but it’s clear enough for Tony to picture the way his eyes shine with it. “It’ll last ‘til I get back an’ you can actually fix me up.”

“I do not find that reassuring,” Tony says and focuses harder on the boring emails pulled up on holoscreens in front of him. He does _not_ focus on the warmth spreading in his chest, nope, not even a little. “Just know that if you come back carrying your arm again, I _am_ going to beat you with it.”

“I’ll tell Steve you’re picking on me,” Bucky says with a dismissive huff, but Tony would _swear_ he can _hear_ the smile in Bucky’s voice, the way it curves up just the corners of his lips. “He’ll give you his ‘can’t we all just get along’ face.”

“God no,” Tony says with a snort, throat tight with something that’s probably horror. Probably. “Anything but that face, I’ll beat Steve with your detached arm too, if I have to.”

“I want out of this family,” Bucky whines, and it’s not hard to imagine the way his face probably scrunches up as he says it.

Tony startles himself with the force of his laugh. “Oh, it is too late for that frosty. I’m pretty sure we’re _all_ locked in for _life_ at this point.”

Bucky makes a teasing, thoughtful noise, broken by a hiss of static, because he’s _underground,_ on the _other side of the world,_ so incredibly far away. Not that Tony has been thinking about that _constantly_ or anything.

“Well, at least-“ Tony doesn’t get to find out at least _what,_ because Bucky cuts off and Tony’s heart lurches for a second when he thinks the connection has dropped. But no, there’s Steve’s voice in the background of the call, and then Bucky says “Yeah, Tony got me all fixed up.”

“I make no promises as to the accuracy of that statement,” Tony points out, raising his voice in that hopes that Steve will hear him, “For all I know he somehow turned his arm into a bomb.”

“That would be cool,” Bucky says cheerfully, and Tony laughs. He can hear Steve’s voice again, too muffled to make out the words, and then Bucky says “Gotta get back to it. Anythin’ else before I go doll?”

“Yeah,” Tony says and then freezes. There’s something caught in his chest but he can’t find the words, can’t force them out, can’t _breathe_ around the sudden lump in his throat. “Don’t die,” he finally spits out and it’s not quite right, but fuck it, it’s close enough.

Bucky just laughs again and says “Doin’ my best, dollface.”

The line goes dead and Tony is all alone with only this stupid cast on his leg for company. Because despite his insistence that he could _totally_ alter one of the suits enough to fit the cast inside, it would only take a couple hours _max,_ the rest of the team had insisted he stay behind. Literally _all_ of them had insisted, the bunch of betrayers.

So Tony is stuck here, in the big empty tower, laid up alone on the oversized couch in the communal living room while his family is off fighting on the other side of the world and okay fine, he’s pouting about it. 

There’s also this weird feeling in Tony’s chest, and it’s like a set up to a joke, right? Because when _doesn’t_ Tony have a weird feeling in his chest, except this one is _new._ Just the slightest catch sometimes when he breathes, like there’s something bright and warm and sharp bouncing around in his poor damaged rib cage. Something _new,_ strange and _terrifyingly familiar._

“Thousand dollars says he fucks up his arm,” Tony tells the empty room. The empty room says nothing back, but Tony is pretty sure that’s the pointed silence of JARVIS judging him.

-

“So, it’s making this weird grinding noise,” Bucky says, instead of anything like a normal human greeting, and Tony seriously considers just hanging up the phone.

He doesn’t, because maybe he’s not _actually_ considering it. “It’s probably because you used your fingers to tighten a very important bolt, instead of an actual wrench,” he says instead and carefully shifts his foot a little where it’s propped up on a step.

“Again,” Bucky says with great patience and an amazing amount of amusement for someone whose arm is supposedly making a weird grinding sound, “Not everyone carries tool sets with them everywhere they go.”

“I still don’t understand those words,” Tony says flatly, and then grins proudly at the ceiling when Bucky snorts with laughter. “That’s why you should have brought me with you!”

“Or I could’a just stolen your tool kit,” Bucky says and laughs again when Tony gasps in loud offense. “Why’re you echoin’?” Bucky asks abruptly, “you in the stairway?”

“No,” Tony says slowly, even though he definitely _is,_ and there’s nowhere else in the tower that echoes quite like the stairways.

“Tony,” Bucky says back, just as slowly, “tell me you weren’t tryin’ to go down the stairs on your crutches.”

“Why would I do that?” Tony scoffs and winces when he shifts wrong. “There are literally elevators everywhere, why would I ever need to take the stairs?”

“So you’re _not_ laying on the landing between the communal floor and the gym?” Bucky asks pointedly, the bastard.

“I am not,” Tony lies smoothly and looks around for hidden cameras. Other than _his_ cameras, obviously.

“We shouldn’t have left you alone,” Bucky says with a heavy sigh. Tony is pretty sure he can hear Natasha demanding to know what’s he’s done now, and sure enough the next thing Bucky says is “Nat wants to know _why_ you fell down the stairs.”

“I did not _fall down the stairs,”_ Tony defends with another huff and lifts his foot to try propping it on the handrail instead, because it’s still kind of throbbing. “I am simply _taking a break_ on the landing, after... maybe rolling down the last couple of steps, just a little bit.”

Bucky makes a sound that’s caught somewhere between a laugh and a sigh and says “Next time we’re gettin’ you a babysitter.”

“I am an adult!” Tony insists and oh, he can just imagine the look on Bucky’s face, equal parts amused and horrified. “I am an adult man, and I am hanging up on you now.”

“Don’t hang up!” Bucky protests with a sputtering laugh, “My arm is still making weird noises! Don’t be so heartless, doll.”

“Wait, does it hurt?” Tony asks, because if so he is going to feel _terrible_ for just laying on the ground giving Bucky shit. Even if he’s not sure how he’d be able to help right now, and he’s not actually sure how he’s going to get _off the ground._ Worst case scenario JARVIS will send Happy to come shamefully scoop him up.

“Nah, but it’s annoyin’ the shit outta everyone else,” Bucky says with an audible smirk, and then adds “Sam keeps offerin’ to rip it off for me.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, that’s what you all get for leaving the mechanic behind. Find a wrench and suck it up. Or just let Sam do what he’s gotta do,” Tony says with a shrug, and grins when he hears Bucky completely fail to fight down a laugh.

“Well that’s jus’ hurtful, darlin. I’ll find a wrench, don’t let the mean ol’ bird boy rip my limbs off,” Bucky says, a smothered grin still obvious in his voice.

Tony feels suddenly, terribly alone in the echoing stairwell with only his throbbing leg trapped in a cast and this weird, warm feeling bouncing around in his chest again. “When are you going be done with his stupid mission you love more than me, anyways?” Tony blurts before he can stop himself, before he can swallow it back down and deny, deny, _deny._ Still, it could have been way worse.

Bucky just laughs again, which is probably for the best. “We should be back tomorrow, day after at the latest,” he says, “try not to break yourself any worse until then.”

“I resent that,” Tony says with a sniff, and forces down all the other unknown words trying to build in his chest, trying to claw their way out. Maybe he has a fever, because his entire body feels warm, like the thing in his chest is spreading.

“I know ya do,” Bucky says, all amused and fond, then adds “lemme know when you make it out of the stairwell.”

“I told you, I’m not _stuck,”_ Tony insists, but the line has already gone dead. It’s probably for the best, who knows what other words will come spilling their way out of him at this point.

-

Tony is half asleep in bed when a thought occurs to him, and he rolls towards the nightstand with one hand flailing for his phone. _‘No longer living on the stairs’_ he texts to Bucky, _‘Please cancel rescue party.’_

He’s not actually expecting a response to his stupid texts, what with the super important mission that he wasn’t _invited_ on, but he hasn’t even set his phone back down before it’s vibrating in his hand. _‘So impressive. It would be more impressive if JARVIS hadn’t told me Happy had to come save you.’_

 _‘Stop texting with my AI, you weirdo’_ Tony sends, and then falls asleep with his phone in his hand.

He dreams that he’s alone in his big empty tower, like he used to be all the time and maybe it’s not so much a dream as a memory. But it won’t last forever, there’s something almost like static electricity in the air, like a building tension. Tony can feel it thrumming in his chest as he walks the empty halls of his dreams, spreading red hot through all his limbs, spilling liquid gold from between his lips.

Tony wakes up slowly, an empty ache in his chest that he _knows,_ that he’s _terrified_ to put a name to. His phone is still in his hand, battery almost dead, and apparently he’d managed to send a couple more texts as he fell asleep.

_‘Pretty sure you’re conspiring against me. I’m onto you.’_

_‘JARVIS I expect this from, but you?!”_

_‘Just hurry up and come home.’_

Tony hasn’t sleep-texted in _years,_ since college when he spent most of his time sleep deprived, hopped up on espresso, and was known to text Rhodey long, complicated equations while in a state of half-unconsciousness. But apparently Tony’s stupid thumbs have betrayed him, begging Bucky to come home like Tony _misses_ him, like Tony _needs_ him around and _oh god_ Tony doesn’t know that he’s ever meant anything so much in his life.

He hates being left behind, hates that all his friends are out there without him even though he _knows_ they’ll be fine. He hates feeling useless and more than anything Tony _hates_ that he can feel the absence of Bucky in the tower like an open wound in his life, that his carefully built denial is falling apart around him.

Tony is still laying in bed, trying to decide if the buzzing in his ears is panic or excitement, when his phone vibrates with a reply from Bucky. _‘On our way back. See you soon doll.’_

That thing in Tony’s chest is growing out of control, taking up his entire body, sharp, bright, about to catch flame.

-

Tony would like to say that he’s not waiting out on the roof when the quinjet lands like a desperate, lovesick fool, but he _absolutely is._

He’s leaning heavily on his crutches, squinting up into the rush of wind, feeling like he’s in that exact moment before the flare of a spark becomes a blinding explosion. The split second between falling and flying. Like he’s at a breaking point.

The jet has barely touched down, engines still going, and already Tony can hear the lectures he’s going to get from Bucky. He shouldn’t be out here on his crutches, in his pajamas no less, a million other things that Tony should find super obnoxious but _definitely doesn’t._

He’s _looking forward to it,_ because he’s _missed_ Bucky’s ridiculous hovering, and his dry, dark sense of humor, and just... all of it, _fuck_ Tony has _missed him._

Bucky is the first one out, trying to look disapproving as his eyes fix on Tony but there’s clearly a wide smile trying to break free across his face. He opens his mouth, starts to say something that might be a greeting or an admonishment or even the beginning of a lecture, but Tony doesn’t hear it.

Tony can’t actually hear anything past the rush of blood in his ears, the way it feels like he’s touched a live wire, like his _entire body is burning._ Tony isn’t sure what his face is doing, but Bucky’s eyes go wide and Tony has barely made it a single hobbling step before Bucky is _right there,_ right in front of him, warm and _real_ and looking about as flushed as Tony feels.

Bucky freezes there, inches away, like he’s hesitating, but Tony is so far past that. He throws himself forward, abandoning his crutches in favor of wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders, trusting Bucky to catch him. Sure enough Bucky’s right arm is instantly around his waist, pulling him in closer, and Tony isn’t sure which of them is shaking slightly. Possibly both.

Tony is only vaguely aware of people moving around them, someone nearly tripping over his abandoned crutches, soft chuckles and he’s pretty sure someone even whistles. Tony does not care _at all,_ just presses his face into the curve of Bucky’s throat and breathes him in, blocks out everything that’s not the 

“Hi,” Bucky finally says against the top of Tony’s head, voice quiet and warm as his fingers tap against Tony’s side. “‘M home.”

“About fucking time,” Tony grumbles, face still smashed into Bucky’s neck, and then after a moment demands “Where’s your other arm?”

“I left it on the jet, didn’t want you to hit me with it,” Bucky says easily, like that’s actually his biggest concern, and Tony laughs again.

“Smart,” Tony says and then takes a shuddering breath. His chest is warm and full, nearly bursting with all those bright happy feelings, and when Bucky’s arm tightens around him Tony is surprised it doesn’t all come spilling out of him, catching everything around them on fire.


End file.
